Dreams of Sweet Demise
by Tyrann
Summary: Set during DMC3, a youth named Elk is in for the time of his life when his paths cross with Vergil in the slightly altered telling of Vergil's quest to reunite the path between human and demon world. Vergil x OC, slight non-con & shouta
1. Temen'Ni'Gru

WARNING! Contains Yaoi, meaning man-on-man sex! WARNING!

Whoo-hoo! I am back people, and I feel great! I finally finished revising the first chapter of Dreams of Sweet Demise, but we've still got a ways to go, so hang in there for me. I appreciate the support given to me, and I am going to try hard to make sure you guys are satisfied. So without further ado, I present the first revised chapter! - Tyrann

Disclaimer: ….Fine. I don't own Devil May Cry or any of its people, objects, or ideas, but I do own Elk. He's just a cute little uke, ain't he?

_It is said that twilight is the bridge between worlds. A bridge connecting light and dark; a covenant kept alike by humans and their counterparts. However, it is the nature of darkness to engulf light; the reason why men so subconsciously fear the dark. With the covenant having been broken, there is no longer any haven for man. Yet twilight is also a representation of life; our own darkness threatening to overpower the light which we so desperately keep dear. Demons do not care for our transgressions though- righteous or not. As creatures of our universe, we can only live by our nature. As such, it is only natural for demons to take all they desire- just as surely as the dark shall smite the light as the moon rises and the sun sets every day..._

"WHOO! Hey, pretty lady!" "Yeah, baby, come on back here!" Various men catcalled to the lithe girl figure that ran past them and into the rain's mist. "Leave me alone!" She cried back, tears stinging her eyes. Their voices grew dimmer, but the beating of her heart echoed within her being, and her tears poured all the more steadily. The rain fell so coldly; so penetrating, that the girl searched desperately for an alley or a nook to find shelter in, if only for temporary relief. Finally she found what she sought, and she darted into the darkness, slipping from poor traction and fell onto her knees, gravel tearing skin beneath faded denim covering. Curling up into a little ball, the girl sobbed into her breast, knees tucked up to her abdomen as she thought back to the fight with her father... No, his father. For she was a boy; a boy who looked like a female.

_"Dad! What are you doing?" "I'm doing whatever the hell I please!" "No, you can't! Those are mom's things!" "I'll do whatever I like! If you can be a faggot, then I can be a jackass. Seems fucking fair to me!" "Dad...no...please, not her things!" "Shut the hell up, Elk!" _

Gods, he could still hear him in his head!

It had been raining all day, but in the midst of the night, the rain had turned ominous; a veil of darkness that concealed and obscured the twisted ways of the city and brought a sense of hopelessness to its denizens. At some point the light mist had turn into showers of water and had cleansed the street from any garbage that had littered its surfaces. Now the accumulated rainwater had gathered into small alleys similar to the one Elk was in, and the boy shook with cold and despair. Shifting to his knees, though they protested as the skin cracked and bled once more, he lifted doe-like eyes with long, elegant eyelashes to the building not so far from his alley. It was a tower, foreboding in appearance and dark in nature. Different levels of the tower jutted forth, some being wider or larger than past layers, until leading to the top where it appeared seven pillars formed some sort of sacred ground.

As he looked upon the tower, Elk's hair curled inward to his shoulders, despite the black ribbon that held it into a long ponytail; a blanket of ivory sticking to a soaked shirt several sizes too big. By some notion, he felt the need to go to this tower. /_It's strange, but...I'm at the end of my rope here._/ And this was true. Elk had neither money nor the means to protect himself, other than his gift... Still, he could not fight, and the possibility of rape was not appealing. Once again shifting, Elk got to his feet, casting one last glance at the tower. /_I can't go there...not yet._/ A small frown crossed his face. Why couldn't he go there yet? For some reason, he knew it wasn't his time to enter that..._hellhole_. Yes, that's what it was. And he realized with a start that the tower _wanted_ him for some dark reason. Elk's bottom lip trembled, and he stifled a low moan that came from deep within. Where had this sudden fear come from?

Elk shook his head, trying to clear this dread that had suddenly engulfed him. That tower had to be evil; Elk knew this for sure now. He turned to flee, hair swinging behind his back like some banner being waved, and saw a shadow emerging from the mist just beyond. Elk felt fear once again in his heart, and knew that whatever was approaching carried a great hatred with it. Just as Elk had known the tower was calling for him, he knew this figure was seeking the tower for foul purposes. Once again Elk turned to flee, but then a man stepped forth from the mist, and his heart seemed to stop beating.

Doe-like eyes were fixated on this man, unable to pull away from this god that had appeared from the night's embrace. /_My gods...he's..._/ Elk could not finish his train of thought as he watched the man lift his head, sapphire eyes burning with a deep fire as moon-colored bangs swept into a proud-lined face. /_Beau..._/ Even as he watched, the man lifted a gloved hand to his head; one sweep and his hair was slightly spiked back, revealing his face and eyes more clearly than before.

A tiny gasp escaped Elk's lips; the man was looking right at him! He could feel his cheeks burning, and still the man looked at him. Why couldn't he look away? Oh, he was embarrassing himself badly and now the man looked angry. Elk felt ashamed now, and finally he did look away, but he could feel the man's eyes on him. /_Is he still mad? What did I do?_/ He heard the man's footsteps grow heavier as he neared him, and it did not help that his heart decided to add to this little orchestra by pounding faster and more loudly. Elk felt his knees give the order before his mind could. He ran swiftly away from the man in such a manner that befitted his namesake.

Vergil watched as the girl ran from him, and a single gloved-hand rested on the hilt of his blade, wondering with dark delight if he should strike her down. The agony of humans was very appealing, and surely her agony would be just as satisfying? But no, he had no time for such things. Arkham was waiting for him, and the preparations were nearly complete. A cold smile flit across Vergil's face as his thoughts raced as to how he should welcome his twin to his hell. As he pondered over various things, Vergil returned to the tower site where Arkham awaited calmly, book in hand as usual. The older man looked up as he approached, and Vergil noted with disgust the way Arkham's wound twisted and festered in its unnatural way.

"Vergil," the man acknowledged, nodding his head towards the half-demon. Vergil ignored him for a moment and turned his attention to the tower's entrance gate, appraising every detail within the ancient stone. The very pores of the cold, stone blocks that made the tower seemed to radiate evil, and the statues surrounding the small courtyard now appeared more sinister than before-the very messengers of the tower's ominous might. When the seven bells rang throughout the lands, the tower would finally be complete and would serve its purpose.

Distantly, Vergil heard Arkham address him, but he did manage to catch what was said. He curtly replied, but even he soon forgot what he answered, for his mind focused back on the girl he had seen. Something seemed off…..Not the girl herself, but something within. She could not be normal, and this…_disturbed_ Vergil. The thought made the half-devil frown, and for some reason, the very idea that a human could possess strange feats angered him. This called for investigation.

Bars had always been comforting to Elk. When his mother had been alive, she had been a barmaid, and had used to bring Elk with her so he wouldn't be alone at home. Now the faint smell of Schnapps and vodka helped to ease the boy's mind, and he could almost feel his mother within his heart. /…_Hurts, mom. It really hurts._/ Things just weren't the same without her. First his father had given up on life, then he tried to sell his mother's beloved things, and now here Elk was- alone and freezing. Elk couldn't go back home, especially not after what his father said after he admitted his sexuality.

The bar was dark and deserted, left in such a state that one would have thought it had been left alone for years, if not for the recent puddle of gin on the hardwood floor. Bittersweet music filled the room, almost as if it were calling for the euthanasia of the night so as to let the hope of the morrow penetrate the ambience of despair. Elk certainly could use some hope, if only to make it through one more day. In such despair, Elk wondered if love were truly a thing meant to be grasped, and not something that could be dangled over one's head.

His mother had loved him, this he knew. His father, however, was a different story, and might as well have been dead for all the love he gave Elk. Such loneliness, and it was killing him. All he had now was himself, and his accursed gift. An oxymoron, but the sad truth, because he hadn't even been able to save his mother. Elk shifted to an upright position, and he hissed as he knee cracked and bled anew. With a small sigh, Elk lifted his hand to his knee, and felt the power rush out before he could command it. Vision dancing, and feeling slightly light-headed, Elk watched as the skin mended itself neatly.

Yes, his accursed gift of healing. Well, maybe _minor_ healing would be a better title for it, seeing how his mother lay buried in the cold, merciless embrace of death. Tears burned in Elk's eyes, and he struggled to keep them back, but was soon distracted by the sound of another entering the bar. The pain flowed easily, and racking sobs soon overpowered the easy breaths taken before, even as Elk managed to recognize his guest.

"G-go away!" He cried, body shuddering in distress. Blue eyes menaced him, and Elk felt his next words die upon his lips. Not only were the man's eyes cold, but the very appearance of him was enough to silence the boy. Elk felt prone and overexposed in his current state, especially since wet clothes clung to his skin, leaving much to the imagination of others, as well as the very fact that his figure was womanly.

It was a slight surprise to Vergil that his protégé was a boy, but only slightly. After all, in the mist caused by the rain, details had been very distorted, so one could easily understand Vergil's mistake. However, it was not the boy that interested him, but the power he dimly felt coming from the boy. /_A remnant of something else_./ Vergil's eyes narrowed as he appraised the aura, and eventually determined it was not a threat. What he felt appeared to be strangely gentle, not hostile. Perhaps Arkham would have other uses besides identifying the mechanisms of the tower….

The boy was easily frightened, but it irked Vergil that he would have the audacity to speak out against him. Still, it took little effort to silence him, and Vergil smirked inwardly, thinking himself able to overcome the boy's will. "You," he said. The boy met his gaze, fear sparking in his chocolate-colored eyes. The dominance Vergil felt empowered him, and he gestured for the boy to come to him, unveiling the katana at his side so as to convince his quarry. But apparently threats were not enough.

Vergil was quite shocked and enraged when the boy shook his head "no". "Leave me alone," came a quiet plea. The boy was soaked from the rain, and he shivered from cold as his white hair curled inwardly towards his face. His eyes pleaded with Vergil, so pitifully and distantly familiar to Vergil that it angered him. Such open display of weakness…

Lip curled in rage, Vergil took a sinister step forward before darkly commanding, "Come. NOW." The boy still shook his head, but Vergil's eyes registered movement as the boy began trying to crawl backwards. The urge to finish the hassle was so deep, but Vergil contained himself, an ounce of curiosity preserving his train of thought. A clawed hand released the hilt of his katana, and he darted forward, seizing the boy in an iron grip. The boy gasped and struggled, but was again silenced, this time by the nails that dug into his face and tore thin strands of flesh from his cheek. A sick moan elicited itself from the boy's lips, mostly in shock that Vergil had slapped him so harshly and in such rage.

"Listen to me," Vergil hissed, his left hand finding purchase in delicate strands of ivory hair. The boy whimpered in pain, eyes tearing up as he felt the blood that began to trickle down his face. "You will listen to every word I give you, and you will be silent until I say otherwise. Understand?" Vergil tugged the boy forward, nose to nose with the youth. The other's head bobbed in agreement, not daring to reply for fear of harm. Vergil sighed half-contentedly, and he released the boy's hair, only to backhand him across his face sharply.

Brown eyes alit with shock before dulling as conscious thought was lost, and the boy slumped forward in Vergil's arms, fragile form resting against the man's own trained body. A stirring found its way into Vergil's body, and his brow furrowed as he took in the face of his prisoner, feeling strange and appalled at the comfort he found from having the boy in his embrace.

To be continued...

_A/N: Yeah, I reread the original edition of my story, and I almost died. I'm serious, I was so tempted to grab the gun and end it all right there. I'm very picky about how I write, and when I know I get better, I usually can't stand my old works. But a lot of people really like my old stories, and many encouraged me to retype them. So I gave it a shot, and I feel happier now that I've tried again. I can't wait until I finish the whole story, which I never did finish typing on the old edition. So sorry to my fans!_

_By the way, in case any of you read my Chris x Wesker story, Eclipse Point, I found one review to be hilarious. It was some person that was trying to discourage me, but I was actually inspired by it. One of my purposes in writing is to now piss off as many hypocritical Christians as I can! MWAHAHAHA! Just kidding. My family is Christian, and I do believe in God, but I don't think God meant that you couldn't love the people you love. I think people have a right to be gay, especially if you truly love someone. I think somebody misinterpreted the Bible or something. But seriously, just leaving a review to piss someone off is wrong, and you should actually read a story before hating on it. And I did leave a warning at the very beginning that the story contained homosexual material. Can people get in trouble for doing that? I mean telling somebody to go to hell and all for just expressing ourselves through writing?_


	2. Foul Awakenings

_Urk….got that goddam "Numa Numa" song stuck in my head….Is it even called that? Oh well, I'm proud to present the second revised chapter of Dreams of Sweet Demise! Hope you like! – Tyrann_

_Disclaimer: I know, I know. I'm too cheap(poor) to own Capcom, and so I own nothing that deals with Devil May Cry. I only own my own character and thoughts._

The cold was eating him alive, gnarled hands twisting in agony as they crept over his face and arms, screaming his name. His voice left him in the darkness, permitted only to feel as teeth scraped over flesh and pulled away thick strands of the meat away from bone. Though he screamed, the torture continued as his skin began to decay, tearing away easily as rotted teeth savored the feast of his body. So cold, so cold, so cold; biting him, tearing him, eating the essence of his living body-

Elk jolted up, panting heavily as thunder cracked overhead, the lightning illuminating terror-stricken eyes as the boy whirled his head about in vain attempts to place his location. The cold radiated from wet stones beneath him, and somehow, the sky had become closer to the earth. Dark tendrils of twilight ebbed across the sky as the wind shifted, the downpour of rain slowing to a light trickling, but nothing other than strange, stone sentinels could be seen from all around.

The boy stood shaking, clutching his oversized shirt with one trembling hand, immobile as he strained to gather his thoughts. The memory of being in a bar played over and over in his mind, but there was little to remember after that… Almost as if his memory had been wiped clean, or as if his own mind was blocking out something. Dull pain burned from his cheek, and reaching to touch the nuisance, Elk drew away his fingers only to find blood. Panic erupted inside him, and Elk turned to flee, desperate to find something familiar enough to wake him from this nightmare.

"Good evening."

The low utterance was almost enough to send Elk over the deep end, but he remained calm enough to face the origin of the voice, and nearly lost himself again upon seeing the speaker's face. The speaker was a man who appeared normal in every way, other than a wound that somehow twisted within the flesh, and possessed two differently colored eyes. The open display of dark greed filled Elk with terror, and as before, his voice failed him, even as the man continued to speak.

"Magnificent, is it not?" One hand left the man's side to gesture about the space around them, and it was then that Elk noticed the other clutched a book tightly. One-track minded, Elk opened his mouth to ask about the tome, but the man interjected with a continuance of his speech.

"Temen'Ni'Gru was once the very foundation of fear. Humans were drawn to it in their lust for power, and their souls were consumed by the devils within."

Elk thought about it, wondering what the people had been drawn to, and if the man were speaking figuratively. His mouth made a little "o" as he ran to the edge of the space and looked down. As he had just realized, there lay the city below, meaning the tower he had seen was his current location. Fear rekindled, Elk drew back from the edge, wondering how he had come to be here.

"It was said," the man droned on, "that the base of the tower was built with mortar made from the bodies of _gifted_ humans. Apparently, the tower continually searches for people of talent, and whenever it finds one-"

The man bent in to hiss into Elk's ear as the boy jumped in surprise. How had the man come so near without his hearing him?

"Whenever it finds one, the tower roars to life, desperate for more power- more sacrifice."

Finally the man stepped back, a cold smile on his face, watching Elk's own with amusement. "Amazing, isn't it?

Elk's heart pounded, still shocked at the man's sudden appearance beside him, and now frightened even more by the man's sick tale. The man let out a bark of laughter at Elk's expression, and he walked a few paces away, eventually turning about and bending low in a mock bow.

"Welcome to hell, young one, and you shall serve to help us obtain the power Sparda locked away within this tomb of the condemned human souls."

Elk watched the man in amazement, disgusted by the man's morbidity. His wide opened mouth gritted shut in anger, and his hands balled tightly at his side. "You're sick!" he yelled at the man.

"Enough. I am sick of this discussion." Seemingly from nowhere, the man attired in blue appeared, striding past the two and towards the tower edge. Withdrawing his sword, he crossed his arms over its hilt and balanced the blade's tip upon the stone. The other man attempted to say something more, but was cut off by the younger.

"Dante has decided to join the fun, along with another." Changing the topic so easily, the cerulean-clad man spoke nonchalantly, ignoring Elk and the rest of the world. "A human; a woman."

The scar-bearing man sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "It so happens that I am acquainted with that woman-"

"Then deal with her." An order, and nothing more. Head bowed, the silver-haired man ignored the older man as he left. Before entirely disappearing however, the scar-inflicted man turned on Elk.

"I would not make Vergil angry." A warning, however apparent, did not dissuade Elk from saying, "I'm not dying for you or your damn tower. Let him be angry." The other laughed, and he replied, "Tell me, young one. What is your name? I would like to know it before watching you die."

Elk stiffened, afraid, but determined not to let it show. There was no way in hell he would die for this bastard. "I'm Elk." He tried to say it bravely, honestly he did, but he had a tendency of letting his emotions show in his voice. Someone tell him that wavering voice wasn't his…..

"And I am Arkham."

Then, finally he left, leaving Elk alone with the man who had knocked him unconscious.

It was quiet for several moments, and the only thing that could be heard was the splash of rain as it hit stone. Vergil said nothing, and Elk thought that he had fallen asleep until the man stood upright and sheathed his blade. He made a familiar gesture, and Elk realized it was one that meant "come". Timidly, remembering the result of last time's defiance, Elk began to follow Vergil, who had begun to walk down a steep ramp to a distant doorway.

Catching up, Elk reached Vergil just in time for the man to pull open the door to the tower and

So cold, so cold, so cold

Realize

All over him, stripping flesh from his decaying body as thick rivulets

He could not stand

Of blood trailed past his shoulders and pooled around his

The ambience of

Person.

This tower. He fainted before Vergil could turn to catch him.

_To be continued..._

_A/N: …..Yeah….the whole mortar for the base of the tower thing? I kinda made it up….But it sounded cool! You know it did! Well, it wasn't entirely my idea, and I have to give credit where it's due. Thanks to the game Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem. Really. Thanks. sniffle It could've been my idea. But yeah, new disclaimer._

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem. I was only inspired by the idea of the tower made of human bones, but I did not plagiarize the content, just stuck to my own characters and inspired ideas. Just clarifying peoples._


	3. Slumbers of Innocence

_Urk...Yeah, it's been awhile. I'm sorry! I really appreciate all of the support you guys have given me, so I finally dragged my butt out of bed and got to work. It's helpful that I had a four day weekend, so here you go! Chapter 3. - Violence, violence, violence. Hmm, maybe that's not such a good thing...whistles – Tyrann_

At one point in the darkness, Elk could dimly remember someone holding him tenderly, almost as if fearing to lose a precious treasure. Surely not Vergil…? Vergil. The man's name lifted weary eyes instantly, and Elk tossed his head from side-to-side as the newest surroundings became clear to him. Tall, impressive bookshelves lined circular stone walls with iron sentinels standing close by- protecting some unknown secret not meant for men. A dull ache in Elk's neck alarmed him that he had slept awkwardly, and he noted with slight puzzlement that he lay sprawled against a wall; left like a rag doll no longer needed by its owner. Now wasn't Vergil courteous….

Speak of the devil. Literally.

Elk's eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting of the room, and he could now make out Vergil's lithe form, slumped casually over a small writing desk with head lain on a thick tome. Elk almost sniggered, but he clasped his hand over his mouth and instead opted for quiet laughter. The mighty Vergil- oppressor of the innocent and a malevolent bastard- had fallen asleep reading. Hilarious. All the same though, Vergil looked quite different asleep, and Elk stifled a gasp as the half-devil turned his head, ivory bangs swept into a nearly childish (or feminine), but proud face. Though clearly violent and apathetic towards human life, it could not be denied that Vergil was beautiful in his art- and his body.

Feeling slightly guilty, Elk lingered a while longer, examining with some foreign care how Vergil's back shook slightly from breathing; the way his eyelashes fluttered in near-wakening sleep; how his hands clenched tightly, but eased back into careless positioning as some obstacle was overcome. Elk desired nothing more than to touch the man before him, to see if this could possibly be the same villain who had harmed him and threatened his life. Hand inching slowly towards the demon's shoulder, Elk nearly reached his goal when he heard Vergil let out a small grunt of discomfort. Blinking, surprised, Elk looked down to find that Vergil had moved his head, only to bang it against the back of the desk as he switched positions.

Sympathy flooded from the ever over-flowing fountain of compassion in Elk (sucker; too nice) and he bustled about to clear the desk so Vergil could lay his head down comfortably. Going as far as to even remove the book from the desk and adjusting Vergil's body so it wasn't slumped raggedly, Elk stepped back from his work to admire the job he had done. Vergil looked a bit more at ease, though his shoulders were still tense in preparation for combat, and Elk realized that Vergil's left hand still clutched that sword he had displayed for Elk to see earlier on. Elk almost let out a sigh of frustration. If you're going to sleep on a small, already uncomfy desk, why would you strain your hand to remain in a painful manner to hold a sword? Some people just didn't think little stuff through all the way….

Perhaps Elk should have considered his own thought before grasping the hilt of the katana.

Like a firecracker going off, Vergil's arm twisted like liquid to pull back the blade while the other snaked out to rest tightly around Elk's neck. Not pausing to consider how painful the grip was, Vergil stood fully upright, lifting effortlessly Elk's entire body by his neck as the boy's feet struggled to touch ground. One look at the devil's face and Elk knew Vergil was infuriated. The raging abyss of flame danced in black water as Vergil fought to compose himself, finally snarling and tossing the hapless youth roughly into a wall. The reprieve was only momentary as Elk choked, and he saw a shadow fall entirely over him, the glint of steel under non-fluorescent light catching his eyes.

Sword ominously poised in Vergil's gloved hand, Elk knew the man's knees were unlocked in preparation for the fluid motion that would enable him to slice, dice, or whatever the hell other cut Vergil would do to him. Panic bloomed like a traitorous flower in Elk's breast, and his right hand shook in the air as he held it out weakly for Vergil to stop. "P-please!" He begged, body shaking from oxygen deprivation and fear. "Listen to me-"

Barely a movement and Elk felt his shirt split apart, falling neatly to the floor in four pieces. "You've got five seconds to explain yourself before I decide to cut you up like a paper snowflake," Vergil said quietly, but his anger-slicked voice alerted Elk to the danger. Despite knowing how ridiculous it was, Elk didn't really consider his reasoning to be ridiculous until after the damage was done.

"I'm sorry! You didn't look comfortable!"

"….."

"….Oh…wait….th-that didn't come out right!"

Vergil was taken aback by the boy's reason. Not only was it so stupidly illogical, but it was somehow logical for it to be logical to the boy. Of all the stupidest, impulsive reactions a human could ever have, sympathy was one of the top few that really drove Vergil up a wall. Shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply, Vergil calmly swept back loose strands of hair before accosting his quarry.

Seizing the boy by the arm, Vergil tugged Elk to his feet; never releasing the youth's appendage for even a moment.

"So, let me get this straight," Vergil said, eyes dark with rage and disbelief. "The only reason why you would grasp this katana- _my_ katana- is so you could make sure I was cozy? Why should I believe this pathetic excuse?"

Elk swallowed hard and nearly teared up from the pressure around his forearm. "...Because its the truth?" He dared to answer, not meeting his attacker's eyes. The backhand was expected, but the vehemence behind it was overwhelming, and once again could Elk feel flesh torn from his visage. A guttural moan escaped his lips, and his one free hand raced to his face, touching warm blood as it dripped down pale cheeks. The wound was not deep, but long and jagged, stretching to his ear from his mouth like a twisted smile.

"Do you seek to make a fool of me?" Vergil hissed, wiping the shed blood from his hand. "Touch my Yamato again, and we'll see who's the fool."

The threat was not lost on Elk, and he shuddered helplessly. "Why are you so cold?" He whispered, gingerly touching his wound. Vergil's eye's narrowed, changing from sapphire to deep silver.

"...Why is it your business...human?"

Elk was not dissuaded by the man's tone. "Aren't you human too?" Vergil stiffened noticeably, but for once, he did not react in rage. Rather, he turned his back on Elk and proceeded to the one of the library doors. "Come with me." The man commanded, not looking back at Elk. "...And I'll show you what it means to be a weak human."

_To be continued..._

_A/N: Oooooh, wonder what Vergil means? (hint, hint: Old fans know. -) Yeah, so here we are on Chapter 3, and I'm beginning to get worried that I'm not following people's personalities so well. . I would really appreciate feedback on how I'm doing. Mostly so that maybe I can get back on track with how people act. My main concern is Vergil, but I think I've done an okay job so far. Let me know! -Tyrann_


	4. Human Weakness

_Oh dear. Hmm. I didn't realize how long it's been since I've written anything. (sweat-drop) Stuff has been going on with my family, and I've been adjusting to my life with my father. I apologize! Really, it shouldn't have taken me so long, but sometimes life's just hard, you know? Anyway, thanks to those who patiently waited (and my sister for continually nagging me). - Tyrann_

The tower halls were dark save for the occasional sconce along the twisting corridors, and Elk followed his sole companion in silence. Questions raced through his head, but he dared to ask none, in case now was not the proper time to beleaguer the man with the random turnings of his nervous mind. Vergil was intimidating, though he had not spoken a word since they had left the library. His posture seemed weighted, but determined, as though he himself could not comprehend the full nature of his actions, however much he intended to carry them through.

A change of pace presented itself when Vergil casually swept open a set of doors to reveal a long shaft leading up. He finally looked back upon the youth, and simply nodded towards the parted doors. Elk swallowed, as he was not a big fan of heights, and he looked at Vergil pitifully. The twitch in Vergil's cheek was oddly disturbing in the torchlight, and Elk woefully stepped into the shaft as Vergil swept in behind him. The red glyphs upon the floor caught Elk's attention, but he noticed with discomfort that there were no stairs to the floors above.

"Ummm…Vergil…sir?" Elk muttered, fumbling with the hem of his oversized shirt. "I don't think we can go up this way…"

Vergil inclined his head, listening apparently, but he still made a move towards the strange glyphs. Elk opened his mouth to say something, but fell silent as Vergil bade him come into his arms. Though the gesture was clearly not meant to be read as "friendly", Elk still wondered if Vergil wanted a hug. He slinked towards Vergil questionably, but did as the man wished and felt a wave of nausea as they stepped into the glyphs. Elk buried his head in Vergil's shoulder as they continued in this fashion to the top level.

Finally, Elk felt Vergil relax, but could not seem to free his arms from their lock around the older man's neck. Vergil waited for but a few seconds before jibing, "Should I hop back down so you don't have to let go?" Elk numbly shook his head, but still faced the same problem. Vergil eased out a patient sigh and lifted one hand to unclasp Elk's hands from his neck. The boy fell awkwardly from his grasp to the floor, but rushed to stand before Vergil could say something more. Still, Vergil shook his head and brushed past Elk to continue down the new hallway. The soft patter of feet behind him confirmed that the boy still followed.

It was some time later that Vergil came to a halt before a door. Elk nearly bumped into him, but managed to stop a few centimeters before their collision. He peered past Vergil's sleeve at the door, but recoiled at the macabre design of horned angels and snakes before he withdrew back behind the man. Vergil did not comment, but he did place one hand on Elk's back as he opened the strange door. That strong hand guided Elk through and into a bedroom as Vergil came in behind him, pausing only to shut the door securely. There was silence again as Vergil moved past him to the lone bed in the room, and the man sat before turning his attention to Elk again.

Elk shifted awkwardly, not all too certain that he liked the piercing look Vergil gave him, as if he were an item to be appraised. He looked away, listening, rather than watching Vergil. The older man shifted for a moment before he began to disarm, placing Yamato and its sheath on the floor. The action puzzled Elk, and the boy began once more to be on his guard, closely observing everything Vergil did.

"Humans are weak to a fault," the man calmly stated as he unfastened Beowulf's gauntlets before Elk's eyes. "They are too trusting, and those who aren't usually are cowards that live for themselves than others."

"Humans lie and cheat and murder for their own self gain-

"But isn't that what demons do to humans as well?" Elk interrupted.

Vergil glanced at the boy coldly, but there was a smirk on his face as he replied, "Perhaps, but unlike your kind, we demons aren't afraid nor do we lack the strength to take what we want."

Elk shuddered, feeling how the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He rubbed his arms to smooth away the goose bumps there to avoid meeting Vergil's gaze. "You keep saying "we demons", but you're human, aren't you?" The boy asked, regretting it almost instantly as Vergil's eyes flashed silver.

The man removed his trademark duster and proceeded to unravel his cravat from his vest. "…This blood of mine may be a mix of both, but trust me," Vergil growled as he moved to take off Beowulf's greaves, "my intentions are purely demonic."

Elk pondered this for a moment, the sight of Vergil disarming a menace to his eyes. Though all sense screamed at him not to, Elk had to ask, "Why are you stripping down?"

Vergil froze, hand in midair with his calf-high boots, and he took a minute to respond. "I found you—twice in once day, interestingly enough—and found that you _sicken_ me. Thrice have I wanted to kill you, including this very moment, but I am stopped by this need to understand why I am irked by your pathetic existence."

The man's words caused Elk to step back towards the door, one hand clumsily searching behind his back for its knob as he whispered, "I'm sorry…?"

Vergil glanced up at the boy's movement, but his eyes were somewhere else. "You have something within you I want to understand…and it's not your personality. I felt it in the bar; sensed it when I first saw you outside the tower. Whatever it is, it has driven me to consider doing something that has never crossed my mind," Vergil's voice began to raise louder as a feeling akin to anger began to devour his being.

"Your weakness is what makes me hate mankind, yet your ability is what makes me despise you even more than the rest of them. I want you to feel my anger, and I am going to enjoy knowing just how much it will hurt you," Vergil hissed as he pitched forward, his left hand snaking out to grab Elk by his wrist as the other slammed the door the boy had just managed to open. The boy shrieked as the powerful man pulled him onto the bed, and he thrashed violently as iron wrists pinned his own to the pillows. Vergil turned the youth fully on his back and climbed atop him, lips crashing and bruising tender skin as he wrestled the boy into a favorable position.

Elk screamed until Vergil's tongue silenced him, jabbing the insides of his cheeks that were sore from the effects of his blunt nails. The pain caused Elk to whimper and bite down on the man's serpentine appendage, until Vergil released one of his wrists only to clamp the free hand around the boy's exposed throat. Throat burning from asphyxiation, Elk was reduced to silent pants as Vergil fully explored his mouth and roughly ground his hips against the adolescent's. Elk whimpered as Vergil finally drew off him and released his neck, but was mortified to hear the snap to the clasp of Vergil pants. Once again Vergil was on top of him, forcing Elk down with his weight as he suckled the boy's neck now; tongue slipping out and softening an area before biting harshly.

"Show me your gift," Vergil mumbled against Elk's skin, nibbling delicately on a spot he'd just bitten. Elk shook his head slowly to save his neck from being torn open, but cried out as Vergil dug his nails into the boy's throat, scraping long welts across his trachea. Tiny pinpricks of blood seeped from the wounds, which Vergil hungrily licked up.

"Show me," he insisted, "or I'll give you a full tracheotomy with this hand." Elk opted not to respond at all, choosing instead to pretend as if he had passed out from the earlier asphyxia. However, Vergil could see quite clearly that the boy was not unconscious and pried his shirt off before clamping his teeth around Elk's left nipple. The boy's head surged forward as his mouth opened with a pained cry, and Vergil again abused his lips as wandering hands found the clasp to unopened jeans.

"S-stop!" Elk begged as he head turned to avoid Vergil's lips. Vergil's hands roughly removed the youth's jeans and shoes, saving him only the false dignity of his underwear before biting a sensitive ear.

"When I finish with you, you will beg me to watch you use your gift. My hatred will fuel you, and you will desire me to keep you forever," Vergil promised lowly, grinding his burning need against the fabric of Elk's boxers.

Elk said nothing, his face red with shame as Vergil finally slid his boxers past his white thighs to stroke the skin there. The gentle action was only a pretense before shoving past the tight defense of the teen's rectum with a single digit. Vergil worked the defiant skin as Elk gritted his teeth and blood seeped slowly from his aching neck.

"Please…please stop…"Elk gasped as Vergil shoved another finger to join the other. Vergil ignored the pained cries and stretched the boy before slowly withdrawing, though his brow furrowed in agitation. It wasn't comprehensible why he was doing this…all that really made sense was that he wanted the youth to do something other than cry piteously. The boy had the power to make him stop, yet even if he did give in, would Vergil be able to desist? In this situation, who was really the weakest?

The creature that cannot be defined as man or devil; possessing only the ability to react, yet not the aptitude to reason with oneself?

Or was it the human, who refuted his god-given gift for an attempt at normalcy?

Whatever came next though, Vergil knew it would forever change his fate. But once begun, a task is often hard to abandon… And with this in mind, Vergil opened his pants with as much nonchalance as he could muster into his expression. Taking long, fragile legs over his shoulders, Vergil noticed with some blasé that Elk's face was turned to the side, his eyes shut tightly as his body quivered obsequiously. It was mollifying really. The teen was finally taking responsibility for his defiance.

There was no regret as Vergil destroyed whatever distance may have existed between himself and Elk. The boy gave one agonized cry before Vergil's thrusts rocked him into silence, save for hisses of pain as he felt his body tear from the abuse.

Though it needn't be said, Elk did have one complaint with the gods.

This was NOT what he had in mind when he said he wanted a boyfriend.

_To be continued..._

_A/N: PH3AR M3! ! l\lOW Kl\lOW L33T! LOL. No, really, I do apologize for being so behind in my writing._


	5. Of All the Places to Have a Fit

The shifting parallels of light from a nearby torch acted as Elk's makeshift alarm clock. He awakened, eyelashes fluttering softly and sleepily as he turned to nuzzle his head against the warmth beside him. The action caused a searing pain in Elk's throat, and the boy hissed as he reared up from the thin sheets encased around his body. New pain presented itself soon after, and Elk grimaced as the multitude of misfortunes sought to send him back to unconsciousness. He stole a glance at Vergil, who now lay slightly uncovered, and he stuck his tongue out at the half demon. As childish as the action was, Elk realized there really wasn't anything else he could do. What, hurt Vergil back? The man would have Elk pinned against the bedframe before he could even scratch him.

It was this feeling of helplessness that caused Elk to sob.

A disgruntled moan came from the bed, and Elk shuddered as Vergil awoke, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He frowned, as if he didn't remember falling asleep, and he climbed out from the bed looking annoyed. Elk nervously shifted as the man angrily stalked the room, snatching his garments to redress and equip himself. Elk tried to stifle his tears, but a little sniffle caused Vergil to pause in his task before looking back at his ward. Vergil only looked for a second before resuming to fasten his gloves, and he commented snidely, " You could have prevented it. All you had to do was show me your power, and I would have been satisfied."

Elk glowered at him from his post on the bed. "I know," he said lowly. Tears brimmed in his eyes again. "I just-"

Vergil sighed and and returned to the youth's side. He grasped Elk's chin and placed a long, slow kiss on his lips. Elk's eyes widened as Vergil pulled away and wiped his lips calmly. "At least now you have something to think about while I'm gone," he stated, turning to leave. Elk's face twisted in confusion, and he jumped when Vergil opened the door. "Where are you going?" He asked, afraid to be left alone, even if his only company was Vergil...

Vergil leaned against the doorframe and smirked. "Why do you care? I just raped you without any sort of commitment. Perhaps I'm leaving to go rape another helpless child."

Elk started, his face dark with disgust. "You're sick! Get out of here!" He shouted, throwing a pillow at the man. The devil easily evaded, and laughing aloud, left. However, he called back through the door, "If I were you, I would remain here until my return." Elk balled his fists angrily against his sides.

"I thought you didn't have any commitment to me, stupid!" Elk shouted back furiously, quite aware that Vergil was probably gone by now. He sniffled again and jumped from the bed. "I won't wait for you! I'm leaving...now!" Elk mumbled under his breath, collecting his clothing from the floor. The shirt Vergil had given him after tearing his first was now stretched even more so, but it would have to do. Slipping it over his head, Elk noticed the shirt was now more like a lilac dress. Cursing the dress, Elk opened the heavy door and left the bedroom.

It wasn't until three floors down that Elk realized he was lost.

Yes, he'd tried backtracking to the room he'd started in, but whenever he turned a corner, it seemed he always managed to get back in front of the same creepy wraith statue. With a cry of frustration, Elk slumped in front of the statue, feeling the bleeding from his wounds resume. Not wanting to stain his jeans and shirt, Elk stuck out his hand nonchalantly and healed himself. The familiar rush of vertigo swept in, and Elk took a heavy breath as his head this point, Elk realized part of the reason he was lost was that he was trying to find Vergil. His cheeks burned in embarassment, but he realized that he had developed a crush on the man, despite some...abuse issues. The boy shook his head to clear away the thought when he heard something clicking some halls down. It would have sounded like a dog running, were it not for the heavy thumps and sound of blades whistling that accompanied it. Curiosity led to Elk running two halls over to the source of the noise. He peeked around the corner, and gasped as he saw Vergil (?) cleave a pride demon in half.

But was it Vergil? This man was clad in red, and his hair swept into his face ruggedly as he braced his sword across his back. He gloated loudly, "What? If you don't try, then it's not really an effort, is it?" Elk blinked. This had to be someone else...

The man turned, and Elk was confronted with Vergil's likeness. He opened his mouth as his cheeks flushed red, but no sound came out. The dopple ganger raised an eyebrow in slight amusement. "Well, looks like I've managed to silence her with my handsome looks." Elk huffed as his lips pursed in slight fury. "I'm a boy, stupid!" He yelled, spinning on his heel to leave back the way he came. He'd only taken three steps before he met with a pride. He let out a slight cry, and curled into a ball as the pride lifted its scythe to slice.

The sound of a gunshot echoed loudly through the hall, followed by a howl of pain as the creature was split into two. Elk looked at the large sword in shock before following the appendage up to where it eventually led to the man. He sheepishly grinned at Elk. "Sorry, did I say 'her'? I meant him." Elk shook his head in bewilderment. "You killed it..." The man's face brightened considerably. "Yep. Did a good job, didn't I?"

However, the man was shocked to find Elk crying.

"W-what'd I do?" He asked, slightly flustered.

"YOU KILLED IT!" Elk sniffled, jumping to his feet. "Why'd you do that? Yeah, it might have tried to kill me, but it was just following orders! THAT WAS SO MEAN!"

"Why are you yelling at me?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

The small exchange went on like this for awhile before either party calmed down enough to talk civilly. When they had, Elk coughed into his hand as the man pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I don't know why I'm so upset. Well, yeah, I do, and I guess I'm freaking out now." The adult nodded, listening, and offered, "Would you like a hand getting out?" Elk frowned and shook his head. "I have to find someone...he hurt me."

The man's eyes darkened considerably. "Did he look like me?"

Elk nodded quietly in response.

"Oh, I'm kicking his ass now." The man growled as he stepped around Elk and began up a staircase. Elk ran after him. "What about me?" He cried, running into the man's back. The other looked at him. "Oh yeah..." Elk stiffened and he started to yell at the man, but was silenced by the other.

"Okay, I'm sorry. My name is Dante," the man said. "I guess you'll have to stick with me for the time being." Elk folded his arms. "So you can just forget about me five seconds later," he chided. Dante blanched. "I said I was sorry."

The duo headed up the stairs; Elk continuing to scold Dante as the devil hunter looked around for demons. When they'd passed the seventh sconce down, Dante turned on Elk. The boy eeped as he ran into Dante again, quite unprepared for the sudden stop. Recovering, Dante had to ask. "What did my brother do to you, anyway?"

The boy shifted his weight awkwardly, not sure of how to put into words what had happened. The idea of Dante being related to Vergil made it even more strange, but Elk found himself explaining his ordeal to the devil hunter. Dante listened, however he often made faces or swore under his breath. When he had finished his account, Elk was a little surprised to hear Dante yell, "Son of a bitch!"

_To be continued..._

_~Yays, cliffie! :3 Am I even allowed to do that? Oh, well. Wonder what Dante's mad about..._

_Tyrann's Friends: HE hasn't gotten any._

_Tyrann: Shush mortals!_


	6. One Can Only Try So Hard

_Yay, thanks for the reviews! And yes, Polish, you found me. XD Anyway, I apologize for not updating sooner, but once again, I lost my internet. But I finally managed to persuade my dad to let me use his laptop (he doesn't like Asura or me using his computer since my sister has a tendency to download viruses). So here you go!_

~The boy shifted his weight awkwardly, not sure of how to put into words what had happened. The idea of Dante being related to Vergil made it even more strange, but Elk found himself explaining his ordeal to the devil hunter. Dante listened, however he often made faces or swore under his breath. When he had finished his account, Elk was a little surprised to hear Dante yell, "Son of a bitch!"~

Elk blinked and found himself two steps back from the devil hunter. Someone might need a little time to himself... Dante cursed again under his breath and began pacing frantically as he gnawed on a gloved fist. The erratic display was quite interesting to behold, but Elk found the behavior to be somewhat disturbing. The youth raised his hand and waved it a bit at the man. "Umm, hey, are you okay?" Dante paused in his step, looked the boy squarely in the face, and grumbled something about 'crazed demonic twin' and 'taking whatever the hell' and so forth. Elk sighed and took a nice seat on the floor. He glanced over to his left, taking notice of a staircase, and stared pointedly at the half-devil.

Dante again paused in his pacing before making a face at Elk. "You're just like a woman..." Elk's left eye twitched and he landed a pebble against Dante's forehead. The devil growled in annoyance and picked Elk up from the floor bridal-style. "I meant in attitude, but if you feel guilty about being feminine, I won't hold it against you," the older man teased, carrying the miffed teen to the stairwell. "I'll show you feminine," Elk mumbled, trying hard not to take notice of Dante's soothing heartbeat. Dante looked at him, feigning ignorance. "Oh, really? How so?"

"POKE!"

"What the hell? Who pokes a guy in the face and says what they're doing?"

"Anime characters."

"What?"

"Forget it."

It hadn't really set in at this point, but Dante realized before Elk that they had been standing in the same spot for a couple of minutes. Like they were an item... Dante set his jaw and promptly dropped Elk to the floor.

"OWWWWWWW! YOU MEANIE!"

"Put a big band-aid on it; you'll be okay."

Elk stuck out his tongue. Dante laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head while the train of thought in his head came to a mighty collision with his libido. '_Just a kid, just a kid, just a kid. Leave the pedophilia to the older twin..._' Dante could feel his face heating up as he turned away, knowing the action was not in his character. Aaaaaaaand the kid happened to notice. '_Crap_.'

"What? Your ego finally hurt from harming an innocent, and undeniably cute, individual like me?" Elk taunted lightly, though a part of him was saying, '_bad idea_...' He watched curiously as Dante shuffled his feet quietly, seemingly ignoring him. Elk pouted. "He~y! You forgot about me again, didn't you?" Dante again didn't answer, as he was busy trying to fight his raging sex drive. '_Just. A. Kid._' So not fair there weren't any chicks around. Just like prison. '_Don't think THAT!_'

And then Elk's hand was rubbing his shoulder lightly. Dante peeked over his shoulder at Elk, whose worried face made him feel slightly guilty. "Did I say something wrong?" Dante seriously tried not to, but his eyes trailed from the boy's eyes to his moving lips, savoring the satisfactory rose color. Until someone tapped his shoulder. Elk was pouting again, and oh, the way those lips scrunched up like a freshly blooming flower...

"Are you trying to piss me off?"

Dante was caught off guard and watched as Elk's face turned a light shade of red as realization of his attitude dawned on him. "Urgh...I didn't mean..."

It was cute. Too bad Dante seemed to forget his previous mantra of good morals.

"Hey, kid," Dante gestured for Elk to come closer. Elk blinked but did so as Dante stooped to reach Elk's eye level. Dante gulped thickly and tried to lighten the mood. "You're really short...

Elk flicked Dante's nose. "I'm only fourteen, stupid!"

Dante didn't pay attention. "And you're really girly..."

Elk flushed and crossed his arms moodily. "It's not my fault. Blame my geneti-"

He'd tried not to, but Dante still cut off Elk as he pulled him into a heavy kiss. Elk's eyes widened and his mouth opened to protest, but Dante merely slipped his tongue in. It wasn't that he wanted to rape the kid, but his demonic side kept reminding him of how long he'd been without a decent lay. And the teen was absolutely adorable...

Elk began beating his fists against Dante's chest, but as his knees began to falter, his hands moved to grasp the devil hunter's shoulders. The kiss was nice, slightly violent, and similar to Vergil. Vergil... The boy panicked, suddenly clawing at Dante's shoulder, desperately trying to break free as Dante's hands moved to cup his bottom. The devil hunter lifted Elk to his level, tracing butterfly kisses along his jawline before meeting his mouth again. Elk floundered for a moment, debating whether to allow this act to continue or to remain faithful... But hell, Vergil wasn't here...And it wasn't like he and Vergil were a couple.

Dante could feel Elk's hesitance and his libido dipped into the lower ranges for a second, but the soft caress of the boy's hands against his chest confirmed that their feelings were now mutual. Elk arched his neck back as Dante lowered his head to attack it with light nips, moaning slightly as Dante bit at his clavicle. God, it was amazing how similar the twins were. '_Hence the identical part, stupid._' Elk's mind could be such a bitch at times like this. But it didn't matter anymore, because as soon as Vergil '_Dante, stupid!_' lowered Elk to his back on the floor, everything seemed to have little or no meaning.

Vergil paced angrily about the room. It was apparent from the cold bedsheets and Elk's missing attire that the boy had departed from here, but the question of why still bounced achingly around Vergil's head. The man growled as he thought of someone else taking Elk, but then he chastised himself as his demon half reminded him this behavior was very human-like. '_Still_', Vergil argued with himself, '_It is natural for a demon to want to own something in its entirety._' Vergil frowned as he left the room, his mind plagued by disturbing thoughts. Was it possible that another person would want (his) Elk because of his feminine appearance? Vergil wanted to say no, but he dimly remembered his brother being inside the tower. But Dante was straight as a line, wasn't he?

'_Depends on the line._'

A floor or two down, Vergil found himself standing before one of the seven bells that was part of the tower's intricate gate system. He analyzed the wraith-like statue, pondering why Elk's scent was so strong around this area. Walking around the surrounding halls, Vergil soon realized that Elk's scent was pungent because the boy must have been wandering aimlessly. Sorting through the distraction, Vergil found another stairwell that smelled freshly of Elk...

And of Dante.

_To be continued..._


	7. What Can Go Wrong

_Right, first off, apologies again. School started and I got homework the first and second weeks, but I finally got a break. Meanwhile, I'm trying to balance the ideas of starting my sequel to my other Devil May Cry story and continuing this one. No worries- I will manage it. However, hint hint: I update faster with more reviews. Favs are nice, but reviews further embolden me. ^-^ Reviews are love! –Tyrann_

Looking at Vergil, one might have thought at first glance the man to be entirely composed. Upon closer inspection though, one might have noted the silvery sheen that swept across like an eclipse over his normally sapphire-hued eyes. The dark undertones of damning utterances towards his brother's name filled the old halls of the tower, and even the fool-hardy knew better than to cross paths with the raging half-demon. Prides and Lusts swiftly ducked into dimly-lit corridors, peering fervently after the destructive entity that treaded the serpentine passageways as he neared his goal. The smell of tainted innocence beleaguered Vergil's keen nose and his teeth ground savagely together, nearly sawing his own tongue with his obsessive intolerance.

He could pick up the soft mutterings of Dante as he tried to console Elk. The little wretch hiccupped, obviously distressed by his actions. The action could not stave off Vergil's jealously- though he would not claim any feelings of a romantic nature, he had more than claimed the teen. The fact that Dante would dare disrespect his possession was beyond intolerable. Vergil licked his canines lightly as a devilish smirk crossed his features. The thought of skewering Dante through his chest cavity and propping his mangled form against the wall like a crude trophy was appealing. The savory moment of his heart shredding outward in a starburst movement as the skin ripped to shower the sweet liquid of life… Vergil could feel his loins ache as his heart thrummed with a lilting rhythm. But no…

Vergil frowned as a thought popped into his mind. There were more amusing ways to garner satisfaction than simply killing Dante. The answer came swiftly and the dark knight almost bayed with laughter. Why not snatch the boy from his inferior brother's grip and crush his pitiful soul before Dante's eyes? The child was foolishly devoted to him already, and he could destroy him completely in an instance. Let Dante learn the hard way the idiocy of human attachment.

Such a fulfilling plan… But there was still the matter of taking Elk back. '_It won't be a problem for much longer,_' Vergil promised himself.

Dante lazily stretched his arms above his head, glancing over as he heard Elk whimper softly in his corner. He had already tried to comfort the boy once, only to have his arms swatted away in a disheartening manner. The guilt trip had overcome Elk only moments after their short display of intimacy. It was admirable the attachments Elk had to Vergil, but Dante felt that no good would result from their "relationship". Worst case scenario was the possibility of Elk being used as a sacrifice to some crazed god from Vergil's imagination. Still, the likelihood of Vergil being in a cult was slim to none, but one just never really knew anymore. Dante eased out a sigh, bitterly reminded of the vast differences of his and Vergil's personalities.

"D-dante?" Elk hiccupped into his hands, "Do y-you know where my shirt went?"

The devil-hunter gladly tore from his train of thought and flit his eyes over the floor. He winced as he found the article of clothing, displaying its ragged and pitiful state to its previous owner. Elk blanched through his tearful face and timidly accepted the garment, slipping it gingerly over his head. The worn cloth whispered soft protests as its form tried to revert back to its original state, but submitted quickly to its stretched perimeters. Dante had been less than kind with the poor fabric during his lust. Still, it and the jeans were the only clothing Elk had to garb himself with.

Once fully dressed, Elk tenderly got to his feet and slowly approached Dante. "I-I'm sorry," he blurted, his face contorted with mixed emotions. "I shouldn't have let you…I shouldn't have…"

Dante watched the poor boy resume his tears, shaking his head in disgust at his own nature. The older man pulled the youth into his arms, soothing his hands through his hair. "If anyone was at fault here, it was mostly me," he admitted guiltily. Elk raised his head in protest, but Dante held up a hand to silence him.

"I may have unknowingly manipulated you, but it's manipulation all the same."

Elk grudgingly acknowledged Dante's point, but he withdrew from him with guilt all the same. The pair painstakingly resumed their journey to higher floors, all the while letting silence simply fill the air. The windows of the tower revealed a cold, stony night with naught but a fiendish mockery of the serene moon. The shadows that wafted from dark corners deviously wove through the corridors and tugged at the steps of the companions as they trudged through the oblique ambience.

The silence would have begun to ring in Elk's ears when he caught Dante tensing up in his peripheral vision. The teen turned to the devil-hunter with a question brimming in his eyes, but followed Dante's focused stare to where the Reaper had appeared with four Greeds. Two Prides darted from behind the amassed forces, howling in triumph as they began to approach.

Elk had barely managed to stifle a low moan when Dante gestured to the hall just behind them. "If you can make it, there should be another staircase down the hall that leads to a balcony," he muttered hastily. "Hide behind one of those pillars and I'll come find you when this is over."

Elk nodded and turned to leave, but thought better of it and regarded Dante again. He hesitated, but planted a swift kiss to the man's cheek. He blushed hotly and said, "Take care!" before running off. Dante blinked once, twice in confusion before an awkward grin slathered across his face. "Well, that certainly makes it worth while!"

Dante hooted loudly with new zeal as he stalked his opponents. He boldly taunted with Rebellion, hefting the blade over his shoulder as he motioned for them to come at him with his free hand. One Pride chattered to its counterpart before jumping at the slayer with a sweeping attack. Dante easily parried and followed with a heavy side kick to the creature's throat.

As he ran down the hall, Elk could hear Dante's gloating over the shrill cries of his dying enemies. Shaking his head at the fun Dante was obviously having, Elk paid no attention when his path was quite suddenly blocked by another figure. He collided full force into the individual, quickly amending to apologize when his breath caught in his throat. Even the shadows could not mar the ethereal beauty writ in the chiseled features of Vergil's appearance. The hidden wrath coiled in Vergil's powerful limbs as he drew in a calming breath.

"So, boy…Just where might you have been?"

_To be continued..._

_A/N: I am open to suggestions about how my next chapters should go. I realize some people love full-on smut and others like it with plot woven in. And kinks are nice too, so don't be afraid to recommend something! First response will be considered more than the third or fourth…_


	8. Who Said This Was For You?

_So, yay, I'm not dead! ^0^ No, we had to give up internet again because our bills came and bit us in the ass. (Ow, paper cuts... l\l07 7l-l47 9R347, 1 l\/lU57 4l)l\/l17.) Then, once we got it back near the beginning of this month, there was a little drama with my mom - which really bummed me out. People keep telling me it's not my fault she's in the situation she is, but I keep feeling that maybe if I had stayed with her; I could have done something. But oh well, sigh, got to keep living life. Oh, and I can now be found via the search under author! J4J, 1 3X157! Anyway, I thank you all for your continued support – you really don't know how good it makes me feel. – Tyrann_

_Disclaimer: (Have I been forgetting to do this? *-*) I don't own Devil May Cry; only my character. Don't shoot me or stab me with spoons for the creative madness I call a story._

"So, boy…Just where might you have been?"

Elk absently opened and closed his mouth, seemingly trying to force some answer from himself. Vergil merely cocked his head to the side; a devious smirk gracing his features, though his eyes remained frosty. One look into his eyes was enough to cause Elk's throat to lock up and make his tongue feel heavy and out of place; cotton soaked in water had nothing on this weight that silenced his feeble attempt at a response. And those eyes, tinted frost in a winter's dawn, elicited no sympathy.

Vergil bowed his head and permitted a chuckle to escape as he slowly began to stalk around Elk, creating a paranoid sense of being boxed in by a menacing foe. With muscle rippling in the forearms and tension like a coil wound up in the shoulders, it was plain to see that Vergil only needed one good reason to strike. His eyes were continually hard, but a stray spark of silver lightning displayed the fury within as he circled, quietly fiddling with his gloves to remove them.

With a purposely drawn out sigh, Vergil mocked compassion and twisted stabbing guilt into his words.

"I had thought to see you waiting for me, child. Perhaps I would have let you go; maybe even tended your wounds, but…no." Vergil rounded on Elk, hard eyes set into the boy's own wavering ones.

"I returned to find…nothing. I had let you live, after mocking me…" Slowly, the devil stalked forward, unconsciously forcing Elk to draw backwards into the hollow embrace of the wall.

Still, Vergil slinked further, wry humor gone and anger beginning to twist chiseled features. Eyebrows furrowed and teeth baring, Vergil began to speak with a snarl.

"I graced you with my touch; permitted you to lie in my company; practically claimed you for my own purpose; yet I searched and found no gratitude in your previous act. Do you take me for a _fool_?"

The tension snapped and Vergil surged forward, every bit of an angered god seeking to punish the unfaithful. Elk shrieked and drew back, only to remember he was cornered between a wall and an angry devil. He feinted and slid to the right, hoping to escape, before an iron vice-grip slipped painfully around his left arm. Vergil grasped and twisted near the wrist, forcing the boy to a shuddering halt as a cry of pain resounded through the dark halls. The teeming demon held the appendage to near breaking point as gasps and shaky protests came tearfully from Elk. He lifted hurt, doe eyes to meet his master's unforgiving stare; lips wavering as pained breaths dared escape from his trembling frame.

It amused Vergil that this boy would even think to beg forgiveness. He slid his arm back slowly, causing the teen to stand before him with tears streaming down his face.

"Vergil…" he pleaded, allowing his right hand to close over the hand that gripped his left arm. "Please, let go."

Said demon arched an eyebrow, searing amusement adding insult to Elk's injury. Dark thoughts whispered like a snake into Vergil's mind, and he squeezed and released the arm over and over; seemingly thinking something. Elk swallowed pained moans; fear opening its first blossoms in his pounding heart. Finally, Vergil's eyes glinted with decision, and he gave Elk a twisted smile.

"I've a new test for you," he drawled richly, releasing Elk's arm to lightly let his fingers drag over the abused limb. He circled digits gently, soothingly across fine hairs before his hand clamped fiercely again and twisted with purpose. A loud crack and scream of agony filled Vergil's ears as Elk fell to his knees, broken wrist brought immediately to the boy's chest by a shaking right hand. Elk heaved agonizing breaths as his frame was racked by sobs, slight screams working their way from his throat as his mind screamed at him to fix this mess. He lifted his bowed head from his chest, trying to clear his pain from his thoughts as he struggled to remember the force it would take to bring the healing. He was deterred as Vergil slipped down behind him; one hand firmly grasping his chin.

"You sought mercy and only found injury; such is the fate of one who would _dare_ defy me," Vergil whispered icily into Elk's ear, hot breath fanning against the boy's neck. He traced a line from the youth's chin to his lips, one finger delicately brushing across the soft skin. "And now I seek appeasement for your crime."

Elk whimpered lowly in his throat as Vergil's fingers slid down to his collar and gathered the fabric into a fist. Lips barely kissing Elk's ear, Vergil muttered, "And since this shirt seems to serve little function, I'll gladly help you to remove it."

Swiftly, Vergil lifted Elk's arms upward as a free hand brought the garment up over his head. Elk bit back pained screams and wriggled in discomfort as the material brushed against his wrist, earning a delighted laugh from the demon seated behind him. Torso now bare, Vergil ran his hands up and down Elk's arms, aggravating the severed ligaments and bone. Elk chewed his lips to a bloody mess to stop his shouts, and Vergil ceased the caresses only to place his large hands over the teen's ribs.

"Such a frail creature," Vergil mused, nuzzling his head into the crook of Elk's neck. Magnolia white hair met moonbeam silver as Vergil placed butterfly kisses and nips to the skin, ignoring the silent tears as Elk quietly resumed the healing process for his wrist. The demon feigned disinterest, but in truth paid close attention despite the work he did to Elk's skin. He watched hungrily as he felt a gentle warmth rise in his chest like the first rays of dawn; the beginnings of Elk's magic touching him before targeting the intended area. Bone and tissue mended, but Elk swayed dangerously against Vergil. Sniffing in disgust at the weakness, Vergil bit down hard. Blood vessels burst and yielded their liquid to the piercing fangs as Elk lowly cried out.

Desire spread in Vergil's loins; the demonic side to his nature pleased by the suffering he had caused. Vergil allowed a lazy hand to mingle in the blood of the boy's neck as the other snaked down a shivering chest to free the fastened button of well-worn jeans. Elk mumbled plaintive protests, exhaustion and hurt tearing his attention away even as the hand at his waist grasped denim and slid it past creamy thighs, exposing untouched skin for lovemaking. Long digits splayed across Elk's member, closing and fisting gently; drawing back and forth, brushing against the soft downy hairs nestled between his thighs. A satisfied sigh puffed from parted lips and Elk tiredly ground his hips back against his demon.

Vergil nipped an ear and let his unoccupied hand slip down over the spine and lower to grasp the soft skin of Elk's hindquarters. Touching Elk was only a means to an end, as it earned Vergil the delight of a semi-willing partner, but gentle sex was not anywhere in Vergil's mind. One hand still pumping Elk, Vergil used the hand in back to push the boy forward onto his knees as he slowly began to penetrate.

"Agh…?" Elk cried out wearily, clenching muscles to try and force Vergil out. The demon merely smiled and continued delving; roughly inserting himself and seating comfortably behind the boy's shaking hips. Elk began chewing his lips anew, the blood flow resuming as Vergil quickly lowered to whisper into Elk's ear, "I wouldn't be doing that when I start moving."

Numbly, Elk nodded even though cold stabbed through his heart. Even if he was unwilling to play Vergil's game, the half-devil would only rape him anyway. Consensually, not as much pain would have to be endured, though Elk's wrist throbbed as a reminder. Grudgingly, Elk relinquished his sore lip, and instead ground his teeth as Vergil began.

Elk's heat was a blessing as Vergil slowly pulled in and out. It tightened and clamped around him nicely, Vergil decided as he gyrated his hips to cause new sensation. He decided that he wouldn't mind taking Elk as one of many partners for when he began his reign in Demon World. Not that Vergil was interested in having a harem, but he would have to have women if he wanted to procreate.

Elk gasped and shuddered, causing Vergil to slow to a halt as he pondered the reason. From the flushed cheeks and glaze over Elk's eyes, Vergil realized that he'd hit that spot inside of him. Intentionally, Vergil angled elsewhere and continued his thrusts. Elk's eyes widened incredulously, looking back at the devil with a pitiful whine. Vergil gave him a sardonic smile and pursued his own pleasure. Vergil could feel his own body heat rising, noting how his breath shortened as his lower abdominal muscles began clenching. Elk felt the change and desperately tried to fist himself, but was stopped by Vergil's hand as the demon rocked quickly against him. Disapproval shone brightly in Vergil's heated stare, and he again lowered his head to Elk's ear.

"Why should I reward you?" Was all Vergil could manage to ask before he let out a guttural roar and hot, panting breaths heated Elk's skin. The boy writhed in displeasure; unsatisfied heat coiling tightly in his stomach. He turned to Vergil to beg, but was silenced as Vergil clamped a hand tightly over his mouth.

"Not a word, whore," Vergil hissed, lifting Elk into his arms to slip jeans back over his hips. Shirt following thereafter, Vergil tugged Elk after him as he briskly walked to a stairwell and dragged his partner along. Still tinged with lust, Elk's addled mind tried to figure out Vergil's behavior when he heard a distant call.

"ELK!"

Brown eyes clear, Elk hardly managed to look back down the dimly lit hallway, unable to see the owner of the voice. He heard Vergil curse and tug him along, but Elk attempted to remain on the stairs. The voice called again, and Elk was tempted to respond, but Vergil promptly took him into his arms to carry him bridal style.

"Was that Dante?" Elk asked as realization dawned, happiness daring to light his face. Vergil tried to dismiss the jealousy that stuck its burs into his heart, but found irritation renewing itself as he shot a fierce glare at Elk. The boy quieted, but a smile still graced his features, making him appear a bit cherubic.

"Dante's coming."

_To be continued..._

_A/N: Yeah, I wanted to make this a bit longer, but my thoughts just weren't coming to me. Probably cuz there ain't anything to eat for breakfast, and my stomach's growling at me for it. I would love a donut; buy a donut shop if I could, but then Vash would probably take it away. T-T 1'l\/l 50 l-lUl\lGRJ R1Gl-l7 l\l0\/\/…_

_Reviews are nice; they're like my donuts. (Though they really lack the substance to satisfy my stomach, but hey, the thought counts.) Tell me what you think? You can tell me to go back to the hole I crawled from or get my lazy butt in gear. -Tyrann_


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